


S is For Shades of Shifty

by squad51rescue



Category: Emergency!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squad51rescue/pseuds/squad51rescue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to keep a promise, Johnny inadvertently exhibits some behavior that is odd, even for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S is For Shades of Shifty

_****Emergency and its characters belong to Universal Studios and Mark VII. No copyright infringement intended!****_

**__ **

“I didn’t say you were shifty…..”

Two heads turned in curiosity as the blue shirted paramedics strolled into the day room; Roy’s slightly louder than normal voice preceded them. Mike and Marco watched with interest as Johnny made a huffing sound and opened the fridge. He grabbed the milk cartoon and thumped it down on the table, spinning around to grab a glass out of the cupboard. Roy handed it to him, apparently mystified as to the reason for Gage’s growing irritation.

“Pretty sure I heard that…” Gage muttered, ungraciously accepting the glass and turning back to the milk. He paused, carton suspended over the glass, and squinted at his partner. “Well?”

“I said,” Roy poured his own beverage into the mug and placed the pot back on the burner, taking his time. “I said you were acting shifty, not that you were shifty.”

He lifted the mug up, regarding Gage over the rim. The younger man made another noise of exasperation and finally filled his own glass. He drank the frothing liquid down with noisy relish, and then refilled the glass. Silence settled over the area for a moment as he seemed to be considering how to respond to DeSoto’s explanation. He replaced the carton in the brown fridge and braced a hip against the closed door.

“So, what’s the difference? Acting shifty, being shifty, kinda all means the same, don’t ya think?” He directed his questions towards Mike, who shook his head; his lips twisted in amusement before he picked his abandoned magazine back up. Bending forward, Gage slapped the glass down on the table with an audible thump and then resumed his former position. “Come on Stokes, help me out here!”

“Wait a minute – how does he get away with calling him that?”

The newly arrived Chet hissed his question in Marco’s ear, jerking a thumb in the general direction of the seated engineer and the casually leaning man. Marco, seated on the opposite side of the table from Mike, turned his head, looked up at his friend, and grinned.

“Probably because he’s not calling him Mikey, plus the fact that he says it in a respectful way, not in the often devious or derogatory manner that you use when you’re up to something,” Lopez explained in a slow, teacher like voice, clearly making fun of the question and enjoying himself immensely.

Kelly glared at him but kept his mouth closed. He glanced over at Johnny, looked at DeSoto, and then strolled briskly out of the room. Marco lifted his shoulders in a puzzled shrug and swiveled his head back to the now fully upright paramedic, who was still watching Mike and waiting for an answer.

“Well now,” Mike began, laying down the magazine once again and giving Johnny’s question his full attention. An air of anticipation settled over the room as both Roy and Marco, not just Gage, listened in avid interest for the reply their often silent second in command was about to deliver.

Chet’s voice cut across the strings of suspense quivering throughout the room. “Gentlemen, I have here the meaning of the word shifty, as clarified by Mr. Webster himself.”

“You.have.a.dictionary.in.your.locker?” Johnny was incredulous, his words emphatic and drawn out.

“Sure, who doesn’t?” Chet glanced in disbelief at Gage, who smacked his head back against the fridge with an audible thump and rolled his eyes in frustration. Chet looked back down at the book held open in his hand and ran his finger down the page, deep in concentration. “It says here……”

“Hold on a minute, this isn’t even a Webster’s dictionary!” Marco declared, turning fully around in his chair and cocking his head sideways to read the cover of the thick tome now clutched protectively to his fellow lineman’s chest.

“So? A dictionary is a dictionary…besides, it was cheaper,” Chet explained, lowering the book back down. He ignored the snorts of laughter and once again attempted to locate the word.

“Then you probably shouldn’t quote Mr. Webster,” Roy admonished sternly with a straight face, pulling out the chair next to Mike and sitting down with a relieved sigh. He watched Chet, purposely avoiding the icy glare Johnny was once again stabbing his way.

“If you would stop interrupting me…it says evasive, being of a tricky nature, sly, dishonest, geez, there’s a whole lot of different meanings here…..being able to move very quickly…well that part is you, John, though it doesn’t say anything about moving quickly and then falling on your face or tripping over your own feet.” Chet stepped sideways in his own shifty manner as he noted Johnny turning his attention to him; he barely dodged the black haired paramedic’s grab for the book.

“Chet,” Gage growled, dropping his hand in vexation as he snagged air. He crossed his arms defiantly and slumped back against the icebox, clearly losing what little patience he had left.

“You know, it also means resourceful…..” Mike said slowly, folding his arms across the glossy periodical and pulling it across the table with him as he tilted back in his chair. He watched, his expression neutral, as comprehension clicked and galvanized Johnny back into action.

“Resourceful! Yeah, that’s it! Right, Roy?” John leaned forward and stabbed an index finger toward his partner, whose mouth was slightly open and eyes opened wide in a very uneasy expression.

“Ummm……” Whatever answer DeSoto was trying to come up with was interrupted by the tones, calling out the engine. The men seated all stood up; Roy dropped back down as the engine crew exited the room. He took a deep breath and cocked his head quizzically at Johnny, who had stepped forward and was leaning over the table, palms flat on it, in a threatening manner.

“That WAS what you meant, right? That I am resourceful?”

Ignoring the hostile posture, Roy focused his attention on the wistful tone that accompanied the question; it reminded him of a small, blond headed boy asking, only last year, if there really was a Santa Claus. He swallowed hard and debated on how to reply. He figured that however he twisted his words together he was going to wound his apparently sensitive friend. That meant no conversation for the rest of the shift, just an uncomfortable silence jabbed with an occasional sarcastic barb. He had been through that several times already with Johnny and while sometimes it was pleasant to enjoy the quiet, it always left a bitter taste in his mouth. Probably because it had taken them quite a while to reach the easy camaraderie that they now shared. Blast Stoker for deciding now was the time to join the conversation; he had no idea that shifty also meant resourceful…..

“Well, sure you’re resourceful…probably more than any man I know.” He paused, watching as Gage visibly relaxed and drew himself upright, retrieving the glass of milk and swigging it down. He rinsed out the cup and left it in the sink. Returning to the table, he grabbed Marco’s chair and flung himself into it. Swinging his legs up, he thumped his scuffed, black booted heels on the table.

“But that’s not what you meant when you said it, right?” Unfortunately, Johnny could be pretty perceptive at times and this was looking like one of those times. But this question was curiously devoid of the suspicion and anger that had laced his previous comments directed at him.

“I was only alluding to the fact that you were acting like you were hiding something, and being sneaky about it, or evasive if you use Chet’s definition.” Roy shot for the straight truth this time, figuring there weren’t enough hours left in the shift to try and explain his words the way he wanted to.

John stared at him a moment, bounded back to his feet, grabbed a cookie out of the glass jar, and held it in his mouth as he grabbed a cup and poured in coffee. He fingered the loaf of bread lying next to the stovetop and making sure his back was blocking Roy’s view, removed the twisty wire from it, smoothed it straight as best as he could, and tucked the bit of plastic coated wire into his palm. After twisting the bread wrapper and folding it under the loaf to hopefully keep it fresh, he dropped back into his pulled out chair.

He bit off a chunk of the raisin studded treat and regarded DeSoto with an odd expression as he crunched. By his movements and facial expression, Roy noticed that his earlier annoyance seemed to have vanished and he appeared to be deep in thought. The older paramedic couldn’t help drumming his fingers on the table in a little gesture of impatience as his partner finally finished chewing and then took his time sipping at his coffee. He still didn’t quite understand how the other man could change moods so fast and often in the opposite direction.

“So I was chatting up the jewelry manager, what’s wrong with that? The guy was fine, didn’t need to go to the hospital, and we were technically done…..”

“It was the way you kept sneaking glances back at me,” Roy growled in return, distracted by the sight of Johnny casually picking up a twist tie from the table and playing with it. “Like you didn’t want me to see what you were doing.”

His eyes grew wide as he realized where John had been standing as he had been talking to the pretty, curvy manager. At the time he had just thought his friend was angling for a phone number and was miffed that he wasn’t helping him clean up the trash from their “possible heart attack”. Plus the fact that John kept shooting guilty looks over his shoulder, like he knew darn well that he should have been helping and not trolling for his next date. But now Roy remembered how Johnny kept pointing downwards at the case he had been casually leaning against and growing more animated as he talked…was it possible?

His eyes darted back to the twisty that Johnny was now idly wrapping around his left ring finger; he reached out a hand and stopped the movements. “No, that’s not the way you do it. Let me show you how to size it.”

He flipped Johnny’s hand over, quickly undid the wire and twisted it around his own finger. “Look, it’s gotta be loose enough to go over your knuckle, but tight enough not to slip off, like this see?”

Roy missed the sly smile that darted across Gage’s face as he accepted the twisty back, perfectly sized to the older man’s finger. He closed his hand protectively around the tie and banished the telltale grin. “Yeah, got it….”

“So…” Roy leaned in, eyes sparkling and his voice brimming with excitement. “Who is she, and when are you going to ask her? And how are you going to measure her finger without her knowing?”

A long silence followed before Johnny attempted an answer; his voice came out as a squeak before he cleared his throat and tried again, stuttering a bit with his words. “Uh, yeah, well, early days yet, Roy, early days. Just contemplating things is all.” He leaned in also, and lowered his voice. “Don’t say anything, ok? I don’t want to jinx this.”

Roy smiled at the hesitant voice of his friend and the slow blush that accompanied the confiding but faltering tone. “Of course, no problem! Can I hint at it to Jo, though? This would really make her day!”

“Sure, sure, just don’t overdo it, ok?” Johnny snickered as Roy vaulted out of the room, heading for the phone in the dorm. He gingerly laid the ring shaped tie in front of him, wondering how to keep it in its present shape for the rest of the shift. He tipped his chair back, crossing his arms and baring his teeth in a triumphant grin as he eyed the reason for his “shifty” behavior. Okay, so he had been a little miffed when Roy had made that comment on their way back from that response, but he couldn’t very well tell him the reason for his actions, could he? After all, he was doing JoAnne a favor by getting Roy’s ring size; she was going to have Roy’s wedding band straightened out and resized for part of her anniversary gift to him.

It had been over week since Jo had called him at home and asked him if he could do it. He had been so astounded and surprised by the request for help that he had quickly agreed without thinking about how he was going to do it. He just knew he needed to help her out - even after several invitations for dinner or breakfast over to the DeSoto house, and a handful of “A” shift barbecues, they still tread warily around each other. One step forward and two steps backward through a mire of misunderstanding was how the whole situation felt whenever they were together. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t seem to get along and honestly wasn’t sure if he had overstepped some invisible boundary with his bachelor naiveté; it wasn’t something that he could really ask her significant other about, was it? Not if he wanted to retain all of his body parts in the same way he had been given them…..so he was eager to meet JoAnne halfway and complete this simple request for her, do it right, and maybe bridge the awkwardness that hovered between them.

The call to the jewelry store had been an unexpected relief. As soon as their victim stalked pompously away under his own power, Johnny had approached the still flustered lady behind the counter and asked her what the best way was to get Roy’s ring size, covertly of course. Just because he was standing in front of the wedding ring case and pointing at it while he was asking that foxy chick questions didn’t mean he was responsible for DeSoto’s assumptions. Let the guy jump to whatever conclusions he wanted; although, he wasn’t about to let his buddy go too long thinking that some girl had him lassoed!

His smile grew even wider as he contemplated that his actions had indeed been shifty today. In fact, he had probably touched on every definition that good old Kelly had read, even the dubious part that Chet had probably made up about moving quickly. Trotting around the back bumper of the squad, hitting a wet spot on the floor, and almost sliding completely under the engine on his back would fulfill that definition quite nicely. “So many shades of shifty, and you Gage, have definitely hit every one in the last couple of hours, intentional or not…”

He dropped the chair back onto four legs and dug a hand into the front pocket of his shirt. With two fingers he fished out a small envelope and opening it, extracted a tiny chart the young lady had happily supplied that had the ring sizes on it and the corresponding lengths. Removing his favorite green pen from the same pocket, he marked the twisty at the overlap point and put both the impromptu ring sizer and the chart in the envelope and tucked it securely back in his pocket. He would measure it later when there was no chance of Roy catching him; Jo would get the promised phone call after that and his part in the whole secretive affair would be over. Well, except for trying to get Roy off of the fantasy matrimonial path he was gleefully flying along. He was definitely going to be disappointed when he broke the news to him…..

“Me, getting married, no way man, not today, not next week, and absolutely, positively not next year! Man, how’d he even leap to that ridiculous…well, ok. So maybe I was awfully close to those wedding rings, but still!” Unable to sit still any longer after muttering aloud his ricocheting thoughts, Gage leapt to his feet and stuck his head in the fridge again. Hands full of meat, cheese, and a head of lettuce, he backed up and kicked the door closed with a foot. He dumped the cold cuts and dairy on the counter and paused, holding the lettuce aloft in his cupped, left hand as he contemplated the earlier events. He let out a little whistle of admiration, stuck his free elbow on the counter, and propped up his chin.

“Resourceful, now, leave it to Mike to come up with that one. He sure can say a lot with just a few words, that man. Resourceful, now….” he addressed the inanimate object, his voice solemn. He continued to stare intently at the vegetable, not noticing Roy’s entrance back into the room. “That I can be, my green friend, that I can be….”

Roy froze; one leg hovered in midair as he spied the curious Shakespearean stance Gage was in and heard his soliloquy aimed at the captive audience in his hand. He shook himself out of his suspended pose and strolled purposefully forward.

Pointing a finger at the lettuce, he couldn’t resist words that he thought he would never have the chance to say again. “Alas, poor…” **

Johnny’s startled yelp interrupted his hoped for comeback; Johnny thumped the head into the sink and turned the water on it, exhaling loudly. “Geesh, Roy, you scared the, the shiftiness right out of me!”

Roy groaned and they grinned at each other, mutual admiration at their cleverness enveloping them both. “You really are a shifty nut, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one, DeSoto,” Johnny countered back with an unoriginal but quick retort.

They laughed, Johnny wondering how long it would be before he would be able to tell Roy that he was not getting a ring put through his nose anytime soon; Roy wondering why JoAnne had responded with a confused silence to his exciting news and then had started stuttering worse than the soon to be engaged Johnny…….

~Finis~

 

**Roy’s hopeful attempt to speak the line “Alas, poor Yorick” is from Shakespeare’s play Hamlet.

 

 


End file.
